


Taken

by UltimateFandomTrash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Chains, Gen, Lucifer's Cage, Nudity, Soulfisting, scary accurate quotes from a popular fantasy movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 06:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11961846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/UltimateFandomTrash
Summary: Death has come to take Sam's soul from the Cage, but Lucifer's not ready to let him go.





	Taken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rose_princess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rose_princess/gifts).



> I am beyond sorry that it pretty much took me a year to get to your request, rose_princess. I have absolutely no excuse. On the bright side I think my writing's improved since you requested this fic from me. I hope it lives up to your expectations.

It’d been nearly two centuries since Sam had put Lucifer back in the Cage. On some days Lucifer still hated him for it, but on others he found it beautiful; beautiful because his vessel had had no idea what he’d condemned himself to. Even after all this time Lucifer had yet to tire of him. He wasn’t sure he could ever tire of him. He was fun to hurt, fun to touch, fun to rip apart, only for him to be put back together again the next morning. And then it’d start all over.

Every once in a while he’d check to see if Michael wanted to join in, but he seemed content with keeping to himself. He’d even started singing show tunes. Lucifer idly wondered how long that had been going on, or if it was just recent. But so he wouldn’t be a distraction, or in Lucifer’s own words “a third wheel”, he kept Michael in a separate dimension within the Cage. How amusing it was that his brother was already losing it, especially since his vessel had yet to break. His resilience was part of what made everything more enjoyable. Trying to break him was a challenge, and one that he’d accepted upon being in here with him.

Right now Lucifer projected himself to Sam as the vessel he’d had prior to him, Nick. And Sam looked like, well, Sam. It didn’t matter that only his soul was in here now. Souls could get confused when away from their physical counterpart, so they tended to take the form of the human body they belonged in. But there were differences.

It wasn’t till his body was ripped free from this prison that those differences were seen. His eyes had shone brightly, nearly glowing in the darkness of the Cage, and an ethereal light had seemed to live beneath his skin, emanating outwards in gentle hues of blue and white. Any scars that had marked his body disappeared, and all that had been left was his beautiful, perfect soul.

It hadn’t taken long for Lucifer to ruin that.

Now Sam appeared to him differently. No longer so pure and untainted. The blues and whites were now striked through with reds and blacks, like his soul was bruised and bleeding. Though, each morning, before Lucifer began his work, his soul would shine brighter than it had the day before. That sometimes angered the Devil, but he understood that scar tissue always came back stronger. But the reds and blacks always came through when he hurt him, and now those colors shifted lazily as Sam sat in the far corner of the Cage, his knees pulled up to his chest, and his hazel eyes showing nothing. The glow from them was dull, empty. Even without a body Sam had found a way to withdraw from himself at times, to retreat into the deepest parts of himself. But then, there was a flash of emotion in his eyes, and the colors trapped beneath his flawless skin began to spark and shift more restlessly.

Lucifer smiled. His vessel’s reaction meant he’d been able to mar even deep down into him, where he thought he’d be safe.

Day after day, Hell could only heal so much, and what Lucifer had done to him had reached beyond this realm’s capabilities. He was ruining him, tarnishing him. But he was not yet broken.

Of course, he’d broken a few times, but his vessel had somehow always managed to put himself back together. However, it was impossible for him to do so perfectly.

What was that quote from _The Lord of the Rings_ that Sam had related to a few times in his life? Ah, he had it. “ _How do you go on when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend, some hurts that go too deep, that have taken hold._ ”

As he approached Sam, he thought of that quote. It was true. Sam would never be the same ever again, and if Lucifer kept up what he was doing, eventually, he _would_ break.

Sam’s chest began to rise and fall, his breaths coming quickly, and his soul was already roiling about like a storm. If anything, Sam’s soul was even more beautiful like this, when all the damage was on display. There was still a spark in him though, even after all these years, and Lucifer saw it when he lifted his eyes to hold his gaze. Fear was already causing him to tremble slightly, and sweat was beading on his skin.

He crouched down in front of him, and then reached out a hand to caress his face. Laughter bubbled up from his chest from the way Sam flinched away from him.

When he quieted there was only the sound of Sam’s heavy breathing, but that was broken by a loud clap of thunder as lightning flashed through the void around them. For a mere fraction of a second Sam’s naked body was shown to him in vivid detail, and he could see the tensing of his muscles, the way he tried to push himself even farther away from him, the way the sides of the Cage dug into his skin.

Darkness encompassed them once more, and Lucifer asked, “What will it be today, Sam? Chains? Whips? Knives? Fire? Needles? Spikes? Oh wait, no, we did the spikes yesterday, didn’t we? Ooh, I have an idea!”

Lucifer gave him a wide grin and then snapped his fingers.

The Cage was made for him, and he was free to do whatever he wanted within his prison, which meant he could manipulate it to his will. A few times he’d even made it look like he and Sam weren’t in Hell. He could conjure up anything he wished, and on most days that consisted of a table, restraints, and torture devices. Today, he simply wanted chains.

They appeared as he wanted them to; four of them attached to the bottom of the Cage, each with a manacle on the end. Sam peered around him to see what he was in for today.

He raised his eyebrows, pretending to be unimpressed.

“Chains?”

“Chains.”

“Again?”

Lucifer laughed, and grabbed Sam’s shoulders as he did so, which caused his vessel to seize up.

“You know I never tire of those. Now come on. Up and at ‘em.”

He moved his hands down to his arms, and started standing, taking Sam with him. And, as expected, he was met with retaliation. Sam screamed, his voice already shrill with terror, as he pulled back against him, trying to wrench himself out of his grip.

Sometimes when he fought back like this Lucifer got angry, but today he found it horribly amusing. At this point, this was a routine for them. Sam always fought, and he always lost, but each day he put up the same fight. Each day Lucifer defeated him, and he took great joy in it. 

He let go of one of Sam’s arms for a second, and in that time, he punched him square in the jaw. A grunt left his vessel, and he collapsed to the bottom of the Cage, his head whipping to the side. At the same time that he fell, Lucifer grabbed hold of his arm with both hands, pulling it upward. 

A cry of surprise and pain left him as his muscle was torn.

Sam kicked out at him, most likely aiming for his knees, but in his panic he missed. He looked more like a child attempting to squirm out of someone’s grip rather than a well-trained hunter.

Sam clawed at his hands as he dragged him over to the chains. It wasn’t till Lucifer punched him in the face a few times that Sam ended up on his back, dazed, and completely at his mercy.

“No,” he moaned out weakly as Lucifer began securing the manacles to his wrists and ankles. 

Once he was done with that Lucifer prowled around Sam, watching as he began to struggle, pulling uselessly at his restraints.

A scream of fear and frustration left his vessel, and then he gave up, body flopping down to the bottom of the Cage uselessly. His eyes flicked to him, and Lucifer reveled in the way he swallowed roughly. Then, he crouched down near his chest, a feral smile on his face. He ran his fingers across his skin, excitement building up in him from the way Sam’s muscles receded from his touch. He trailed his hand down, down, until his palm rested right against his pelvis. Sam’s struggles renewed.

Satan pulled his hand away, and chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m not in the mood for that today.”

“Stop toying with me,” Sam muttered.

Lucifer smiled softly at him, and began running a hand through his hair, acting as though he was trying to soothe him. “Oh, Sam,” he told him, his voice quiet. “Come on, it’s me you’re talking to. The Devil, remember? Toying with you is all part of the fun. I know, I know, you don’t like it. I get it. I really do. I wouldn’t like it either. But that’s not the way this works. Sure, I guess, maybe if things were the other way around, if you were an archangel and I your vessel, then I’d be the one chained up, but luckily for me, that’s not how things are. You’re mine, Sammy. You always have been.”

His vessel blinked a few times, and tears fell free. Terror, cold and absolute seemed to take hold of him, no other emotion existing in his hazel eyes. But then it was drowned out in a rush of an emotion that Lucifer had grown quite used to when dealing with Sam. Determination.

In a low, even voice he dared, “Then do whatever the hell you want with me.”

Delighted that there was still plenty of Sam left to ruin, Lucifer clapped his hands together gleefully and laughed. 

“Oh, indeed I shall.”

And then, without any preamble, he simply stuck his hand inside of Sam’s soul.

There was nothing else like this. Sure, sex existed, but sex paled in comparison to _feeling_ the essence of Sam’s existence, to being inside of it. Oh, and the screams that poured from his vessel’s mouth were like an endless symphony, but not even the greatest composers of all time could create something so wondrous. The hair on his arms rose up, and a pleasurable chill ran through him. Sam’s soul burned with light, with compassion so powerful it nearly hurt to be immersed in it. It flared at being invaded like this, glowing angrily, its colors as bright as angel’s Grace. 

If he wished, Lucifer could take from that energy, but he didn’t want that. He didn’t need to. Just knowing, just reveling in his vessel’s existence was enough. His very insides seemed to be singing with pleasure, pleasure that nothing else had the power to grant him with. It wasn’t often that Lucifer did this to Sam (there were just too many ways he could use him to entertain himself) but right now, in this moment, he wanted this to last forever.

Sam’s wondrous voice quieted, but only for a mere second so he could catch his breath before he continued screaming. His voice was loud enough to feel like an actual physical thing rather than just energy. It hit Lucifer, penetrated him, and it was overwhelming when mixed with the pure brilliance of Sam’s soul. Lucifer wanted to join him in screaming, but he held it back, his teeth gritted. It wouldn’t do to bury his vessel’s voice with his own.

But then, something did interrupt him, an unfamiliar voice, an unfamiliar presence, a being he hadn’t seen or conversed with in hundreds of years. Somehow the voice cut over the sound of his vessel’s agony, even sliced through his own ecstasy, yet it was calm, demanding. “Lucifer, move away from Sam Winchester.”

Power, neither dark nor light, resonated from the words, and hit him with pure, concentrated force. Caught completely by surprise, Lucifer could do nothing in the wake of such an attack, and he withdrew his hand from Sam’s soul and fell backwards. 

As the Devil lifted his gaze up to look at the face of the being before him, all that could be heard was Sam’s harsh breathing and the crashes of thunder. Lightning illuminated Death’s dark brown eyes, and Lucifer met them with his own harsh, red gaze.

All he could do was stare. A shudder from residual pleasure ran through him, but he was too thoroughly confused to act. Death had access to the Cage? To his prison? What was he doing here? Did Dean somehow get through to him? Or Castiel? It didn’t seem likely. Humans were nothing compared to such a powerful entity.

Death blinked, the motion somehow filled with contempt. “I’m here to collect Sam Winchester’s soul,” he explained calmly.

Those words pierced the Devil like a spear. And there it stayed, pain spreading throughout his body. 

“ _No_ ,” he growled out, somehow finding the strength to rise to his feet. “ _He’s mine_.”

Death tilted his head and regarded Sam. A flicker of emotion passed over his face. It might have been pity, but as soon as it was there, it was gone. Lucifer looked to Sam as well, but his vessel’s gaze wasn’t on him. He stared upon Death with pleading eyes, hope practically resonating from him.

“That is true in many ways, Lucifer,” he agreed. “But that doesn’t change what I came here for.”

“I won’t let you.”

“Fight me if you wish, but it will do you no good.”

Death reached out towards Sam, and Lucifer snarled and leapt at him. With a flick of his head, Death sent a surge of power towards the Devil that had him hurtling backwards, rolling before finally settling on the bottom of the Cage.

No! This couldn’t be happening! If anyone should be free it should be him! Why was Sam allowed to be saved? He’d literally thrown himself in here. But if he was going, Lucifer wanted to go too.

Death had crouched down, and was undoing the manacles on Sam’s ankles and wrists, moving slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. Really, he did. Lucifer knew he was no match for him, and that frightened him so much that it felt like his Grace was being torn apart. He couldn’t lose Sam. He just couldn’t! What else would he do? Who else would he talk to? Sure, there was Michael, but Michael wasn’t Sam. Sam was his, his vessel, he was made for him. And Lucifer wasn’t ready to lose him just yet.

He reached out towards Sam with his powers, and found a crack into his mind. He slipped through, a yell of exertion leaving him as he did so.

Lucifer was no longer in the Cage. At least, it appeared that way. He stood in a graveyard, the very same graveyard he and Michael had originally been destined to battle in. The gray sky and yellow grass made the place feel desolate, a place without hope. And there was no one else there, just him and Sam.

Sam sat cross-legged on the ground, his back towards him, fully clothed in jeans and a dark red plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had yet to notice him. Lucifer looked down at himself, and realized he still appeared as his previous vessel. That wouldn’t do. With a wave of his hand he changed his appearance. Human minds were easy to alter, and now, when Sam saw him, he would look and sound exactly like Dean. Perfect.

“Sam?” he called out as he approached him. The lower voice that came out of him was odd, something he wasn’t used to.

Sam spun around, and his eyes brightened when he saw him. He stood.

“Dean? What are you doing here?”

A smile, a genuine smile spread over Sam’s face as he wrapped his arms around him in a hug.

“Am… am I out?” he questioned tentatively. Then he looked around, confusion on his face. “Wait, this doesn’t seem right. I was… I was with Lucifer. Where did h-”

Lucifer interrupted, “He’s not here now. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Sam furrowed his brow in confusion. “Something doesn’t feel right,” he muttered.

“I’ll explain everything later, but we have to go.”

He tried grabbing onto Sam’s forearm, but he pulled back, his questioning gaze falling on him.

Lucifer gritted his teeth. He was running out of time. Even now he could feel the overwhelming presence of Death’s power tugging at him.

“You’re not Dean,” he said, voice quiet and tentative.

He huffed an incredulous laugh. “Of course I’m Dean! Come on, don’t tell me the Devil messed with your head that badly. It’s me, your brother.”

Sam shook his head, and started backing away. “No. No, something’s wrong. This… this isn’t right.”

“Sam, will you please just come with me?” the Devil pleaded in Dean’s voice.

“No.”

He went over to him, and made to grab him again, but Sam evaded, and darted around him. Lucifer let out a growl of frustration.

“Sammy, this is ridiculous.”

“No, no, no… You’re not Dean. You’re not Dean.”

“Look, come with me, I’ll get you all checked out. Clearly there’s something wrong with your head.”

He started approaching him again, and Sam backed up, pointing a finger at him in warning.

“You stay away from me!”

“Sammy!”

And then the line that had been tugging at him was yanked on fiercely and he was pulled back, ripped from Sam’s mind. Electricity seemed to flash through him, searing hot, and then he was in the Cage again. Lucifer was on his hands and knees, panting, and Death was looking down at him. It was unnerving that he couldn’t read any expression on his pale, drawn face.

“Wha-what just happened?” Sam gasped out. A groan left him as he started sitting up.

Panic swarmed through Lucifer when he realized that Sam was no longer restrained.

“Lucifer went into your mind to attempt to persuade you to say yes.”

Rage flared up in Sam, his soul beginning to pulsate from it. He said nothing, but he didn’t have to. A million words flashed through his eyes, and Lucifer understood. Sam had never hated anyone the way he hated him. Most days Lucifer found that amusing, but now, when he was about to lose his vessel forever, it was terrifying. Never again would he be able to sit and bask in all that fury, all that hatred. Never again would he enjoy his pain, his fear. Never again would he gaze upon his tortured soul. Never again would he be in the presence of Sam Winchester.

Death reached out a hand to help Sam up, and he gladly took it.

“I think we’ll be going now,” Death informed him.

Lucifer tried to rise to his feet and rush at Death, but he was held back, invisible restraints of energy encasing him. He pounded away at them with his powers, screaming as he did so. He cursed Sam, cursed Death, cursed his father, cursed existence, cursed everything he could. Fear and rage boiled together within him, the strength of them so profound it seemed to become all he was. He was nothing but that burning, red energy.

His restraints began weakening, bending under his powerful blows, but he could see the energy around Death begin to swirl around Sam. In just a few more seconds, both of them would be gone.

The restraints broke, and Lucifer lunged forward…

Only to land on empty air.

When Lucifer started screaming he didn’t know how much time passed until he stopped.

Time passed and he knew only one thing.

Sam Winchester had been taken from him.

**Author's Note:**

> To those of you reading my fic _Deathless_ I'm sorry I haven't written it in a while. A lot's been going on, but I'll just include that in the author's note in chapter 38 (hopefully I can get it out soon, but who knows).
> 
> Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this one-shot. I mean, it was _really_ hard since I had to work with a lot of abstract concepts and make it into something more of a story and something that could be pictured. Yeah, not easy. But definitely, definitely fun.
> 
> Just to make it clear, Lucifer knowing the quote from _The Lord of the Rings_ was not me messing up, or just saying, "what the heck, no one will notice". Lucifer probably can quote from any movie Sam's seen if Sam knows the quote since he's been in his head, so... yeah. I had the Devil quote from _The Lord of the Rings_.


End file.
